


Round Three

by moonlightof1982



Series: Rounds [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3730249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlightof1982/pseuds/moonlightof1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Three

"Happy 15th Nameday, My sweet! Come to dinner tonight in the solar. I'll find a way to keep Sweetrobin occupied. I'll see you later!" 

Petyr Baelish, Lord Protector 

Sansa had woken up to find the note from Petyr. She blushed and smiled to herself and wondered what other naughty surprises her had for her. For so long she had been denying her passions, and desires, for the sake of survival. So many people had hurt her, used her, taken her for some silly waif that they could do whatever with, but with Petyr, she felt strong, powerful, beautiful, exciting and vivacious! The naïve, foolish, empty-headed child was gone, and with Petyr by her side, the world could be hers with the snap of a finger. 

Where did this man come from? How did he learn how to please a woman so well? Sansa thought back on Lysa, and how obsessed she was with him. Sansa felt like she could finally understand the fascination, the need! And she was so needy for him. He punished her only a few hours ago with the wooden spoon, and yet, she did feel punished. She felt fed after a bout of starvation. 

Even the few words on a piece of paper excited her. She could feel her thighs getting moist at the prospect of another evening with Petyr. She could smell his scent through the robes he had given her. They smelled of mint, cloves, something else, a rich husky smell that only had to be Petyr's skin. It invaded her nostrils, and heated her blood. It provoked a wicked gleam in her eyes, and horripilation across her flesh. Her breathing changed, and she sunk deeper under the blankets. She slipped out of the robes, and discarded them to the stone floor. Her hands fondled her breasts, gently pinching her nipples until they were hard and firm. The sensations traveled down her body, and up again, stopping at the place Petyr gave his nefarious attentions only a few hours ago. 

"Gods!", Sansa cried, as she teased her pink flesh, exploring, delving, reaching. Her hands weren't as strong as Petyr's, and within a few moments, her fingers and cunt started to ache. Her fingers dying with pain, her cunt, coming alive with pleasure. 

"Ohhh, I could die from this!", she said, while the pleasure surged through her. 

She imagined Petyr's tongue, invading her rosy tightness, the way he hummed as his lips captured, and devoured her. Oh, that first night! That first, sweet night! As she rubs, she thanks the Gods for Sweetrobin. If it were not for him, she never would have known such heights, such depths! 

Sansa pinched her nipple tighter, rotating it with the tips of her thumb and index finger. She couldn't believe that such a small action could cause such a deep, and widespread reaction. Why had she not done this before? She could have played with herself on Petyr's boat as it was bobbing up and down on the water. She could have squeezed her breasts as she bathed herself, or rubbed her thighs together under that table while with the Queen. Cersei did give her one good piece of advice. "The best weapon in between her legs! Learn how to use it!". Maybe Cersei wasn't a total fool after all. 

She flipped herself onto her belly, and rubbed herself harder, faster, and with a determination she didn't know she had. She was going to reach ecstasy, even if it killed her. Nothing else mattered. She imagined Petyr standing in the room watching her, raking over her body with his intense grey-green gaze, nodding his head ever so slightly, giving his silent permission to finish, his thick battering ram, swelling and hungry for her sopping wet... 

"Oh, Yes! Ahhhh!!!!", Sansa shouted, as she finally reached the tipping point. Her whole body vibrated with demonic sensations, that threatened to drive her to a fatal brink. She nearly blinded herself with pleasure, but she knew that Petyr could take her 100 leagues further. She couldn't wait until tonight! 

Once she finally got a hold of herself, she climbed out of bed, and burned the letter in the fireplace. Then she walked back to her chambers, bathed, and put on a clean gown, leaving her hair still wet. In the kitchens, Sweetrobin and Petyr were eating a breakfast of honeycakes, eggs, bacon, and milk. 

"I'm sorry I'm late. I overslept a little", said a blushing Sansa. 

"How was your rest, sweetling?", asked Petyr, with a raised eyebrow. 

"I slept well." Saying no more, she wolfed down her food. Petyr and Sweetrobin were staring at Sansa as she ate. The boy looked dumbfounded, and Petyr gave one of his trademark grins. 

"I see you worked up an appetite this morning.", teased a smiling Petyr. "What has made you so ravenous?" 

She finished the everything on her plate, and the rest of her milk. She didn't respond to his question, or look up at him, but she knew that he knew the answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Arpil 12 is my birthday, so feeling inspired by that fact, as well as the season 5 premiere, here is the next round! Bring on Season 5!


End file.
